All Systems Go
by idazle
Summary: Moran and Moriarty face a new villain stalking the streets of London. Bonds are broken, new ties established, and Jim and Seb are downgraded on the list of "most dangerous men in London". Mormor. Rated T for language.
1. Chapter 1

He hated when Jim got like this. Nervous, frantic, pacing around the flat like he was possessed. He had snapped at Sebastian whenever he made a comment, so he had shut up and sat in his leather armchair, reading the paper. Jim walked back through the door to their living room for the hundredth time, biting his nails. Sebastian sighed.

"Jim."

Jim turned on him, whipping his head around to glare at him.

"What? What is so utterly important that I have to know right this very second, Sebastian?"

"Quit biting your nails. It's bad for your teeth."

Jim hissed and stalked back out of the room, leaving Sebastian smirking. It was ever so fun to mess with Jim, and he knew there would be repercussions, but he didn't care. There was a slam from the front of the house. Sebastian sighed again, and laid down his paper. Jim was out, and he would definitely go get himself in trouble. Slipping his handgun into his waistband, he slipped out the front door, locking it behind him.

Jim had favorite places to go when he was angry, and only Sebastian knew about them. He liked to go to bars and clubs, drink himself to oblivion, and let Sebastian clean up any fights he had started, pick up the bar tab, and carry the sorry drunk home before he threw up in their bathroom.

Sebastian wasn't dressed for anything special. Dark jeans, white shirt. It was his go-to outfit. Simple, unremarkable. No one would remember him. And Jim liked to see bloodstains on his shirt. He refused to let Sebastian clean up after a job, and instead dragged him off to their bedroom the minute he walked through the door.

The streets grew darker as the evening wore on, and Sebastian still hadn't found Jim. He was beginning to get worried, but Jim could take care of himself.

He had to resort to calling, though, because he really was worried. The phone was picked up on the third ring, and a gruff, deep voice that was definitely NOT Jim's answered.

"Hello."

"Who the fuck is this? Tell me, right now, or I swear to God I will kill you."

"Oh, silly Sebastian. You don't really believe in God, do you? You've done much too much."

"Who _is _this?"

"Tell me. Are you the owner of this sad little man sitting in front of me?"

A pause, then a muffled grunt. Sebastian wasn't quite as good at deduction as Jim was, and neither of them was as good as Holmes, but he had learned a few things (both from Jim and from his time in the army) and he could tell when someone was being hurt. In Jim's case, probably kicked. Maybe hit.

"Don't touch him!"

"Aw. You're worried. Cute."

There was a click, and the line disconnected. Sebastian shouted in anger. Several passerby looked at him in shock, and they hurried past him, clutching their bags more tightly. He knew he looked dangerous. When he was angry, he definitely was dangerous. And he was furious.

His phone buzzed. There was a text on the screen, from a blocked number.

**429 Westerfield Street. 3****rd**** floor. Don't come armed.**

This could _not _be happening. This was not supposed to happen to them. This is what they were supposed to do to other people. They were the leaders, not these mystery men. He started running. Hurtling around a corner, he tripped over a broken-off piece of brick and stumbled. He caught himself before he fell, and ran on, his breath catching in his throat, lungs ragged. He was in great shape, but fear constricted his chest and made it hard to breathe.

He was abandoning his usual stealth, though, not caring who saw him. Jim would give him shit for it, he knew, but he didn't care. Watson, Holmes, Cartwright, Bellusio, Darkwitte. All their biggest rivals flew out of his mind as he pounded the pavement. Nobody mattered. Not as much as Jim.

He fell, panting, against the side of the house. If you could call it a house. The darkness didn't show much, but what he could see were boarded up windows, broken bricks, and the torn screen door swaying in the light breeze. There was a light flickering through the planks on the top floor. _Jim. _

He crashed through the door, taking it right off the hinges. There was a thump from upstairs. The stairs groaned under Sebastian's weight as he took them two at a time, gasping for air, pulling out his handgun.

The third floor door swung open easily, and suddenly he was falling, falling down something, it must have been a hole in the floor, and he landed with a jolt.

"Seb?" a hoarse, cracked voice whispered.

"Holy shit. Jim. Fuck."

He heard a shuffling noise. Then a hand brushed his forehead, and he gasped, dragging Jim into his arms.

"Jim, Jim, Jim, what the fuck have we gotten into?"

A harsh light was flicked on overhead, and they were thrust into bright fluorescent lighting. Sebastian looked down, Jim's head nestled just below his chin. His hair was mussed up, and his face was cut and bruised. His nose looked broken, and Sebastian felt himself tense up with undeniable anger. He was going to _kill _these men, these men that had dared to hurt his Jim.

A laugh came from above them.

"How sweet! Look at the lovebirds."

Jim growled beneath him. Sebastian tightened his grasp around Jim's shoulders and looked up. There seemed to be a _girl _standing there. Young, slim, and beautiful. The kind of girl Sebastian had dated back when he was younger, although they had never accepted his line of work, to say the least.

She had fiery red hair that shone in the lighting, and her pale skin and bright green eyes looked alien, otherworldly.

"How…?" Sebastian stopped.

"A simple voice changer, idiot," the girl said, her real voice high-pitched and reedy, but with a touch of venom running underneath. She turned and spoke to someone behind her.

"Zeptejte se jich všechno. Použijte cokoliv metody nutné."

Both Jim and Sebastian were well-versed in languages. The girl was speaking Czech, a language Sebastian had had to speak for five months on a tour in the army. He knew what was coming. The girl and one of her friends were going to torture them. And ask them for something. What had they done? What did these people want?

The girl turned back towards Jim and Sebastian, a slow smile spreading over her face.

"Now," she said, "It's time to show you who's boss."


	2. Chapter 2

Sebastian grit his teeth, feeling the rough material slide over his wrists. The girl was grinning as she stood back, flipping her hair over her shoulder. Dressed in all black, she looked like some kind of demon come to ravage the earth, all while laughing like it was playtime.

The man standing in front of him was built like a mountain. Sebastian was large, but not like this guy. His eyes were dark, expressionless, and as he tightened the binding, he stared into Sebastian's. Sebastian held the gaze until the man turned away. Maybe his bright blue eyes weren't quite as terrifying, but he knew how to strike fear into everyone he met, regardless of his current situation.

"Zahájit." _Begin._

The girl began walking slowly around the room. The dim light caught her auburn hair and Sebastian glared.

"So." She said.

"What is your name?"

Sebastian stayed silent.

"Listen, darling, we can do this non-painfully. Or, we can torture it out of you." She smiled. "So what will it be?"

Sebastian just stared at her, narrowing his eyes into slits.

She sighed. "To be honest, I'm only being this lenient because I think you're hot. I'm always told that I'm distracted by the people I question. No more." She clapped her hands. Mountain man walked to her side. She whispered something in his ear.

"I will ask you one more time. This is an easy question. What is your name?"

Silence.

Now it was her turn to narrow her eyes.

"Hořet."

The man stepped behind Sebastian. There was a clanging, and then he felt a searing pain on the back of his neck. _Burn. _He growled.

The girl stepped forwards.

"Sorry, darling. That might leave a scar. Although you already seem to have a lot, and scars are sexy." She winked.

"Name. Please." She pouted.

The stinging on his neck was fading.

"No."

Her eyes flashed with anger, and then she slapped him across the face. Something hard cut him across the cheekbone, and when she brought her hand back, he could see that she was wearing several silver rings.

"Sebastian Moran." he gasped out. He needed to get out of this alive, to save Jim, and if that meant subjecting to their questions, he would.

She clapped. "Good boy! How old are you?"

"Thirty-two."

She bent down and kissed his forehead. He winced. "This isn't so hard, is it? What is your line of work for James Moriarty?"

"Hitman."

"Who was the last person you killed?"

"Dmitri Belanova."

She exhaled. "Perhaps I should tell you my name. "Ekaterina Belanova. You can call me Kat. But I'm not giving you my number, darling." She winked. "In all seriousness, though, I'm pretty mad that you killed my brother. Want to tell me why?"

"I don't know." It was kind of true. Usually the reason for targeting someone was kept secret by the employer. It only made sense. There was no trust between a hitman and an employer, but in Sebastian's case it was different. Jim told him almost everything. Sebastian suspected that it was no more than having a big ego, but whatever. The girl leaned down.

"Don't. Lie. To. Me." She whipped her head around. "Hořet!"

He couldn't hold back a grunt of pain as Mountain Man pressed the hot metal into his shoulders.

"We're branding you," the girl said sweetly, all traces of anger gone from her pretty face.

"Been there, done that," he gasped out. It was true. He'd been captured as a POW in the army, and he still had symbols seared into his side, right below his ribcage.

Ekaterina's face hardened.

"Fine." she said. "Then we'll give you a taste of something you've never had. How would you like that, pretty boy?"

She smiled, her mouth curving into something more of a grimace. "Bring him up."

Shock slammed into Sebastian's mind as he realized what was about to happen.

"No! NO, stop, please! I'll tell you everything, I swear, please!"

"Should have thought of that before, right?"

Mountain Man pushed open the door, pushing Jim, blindfolded. He wasn't struggling, simply calm and slightly smiling. This is where people got scared, usually. Even with deep cuts, a torn Westwood suit, and blindfolded and bound, Jim seemed to show no emotion other than amusement. People called him sociopathic. _Pyschopathic, _maybe. And Sebastian had no problem with that. It helped Jim get done what he needed to get done. And besides, aren't all the best people even a tiny bit psychopathic? But not sociopathic. Not Jim.

"You don't know what you're getting yourself into." Jim spoke, turning his head towards the girl.

She stepped back, evidently surprised. She was definitely not expecting Jim to react like that.

"Love, don't be so surprised! You're dealing with James Moriarty and Sebastian Moran! You're trying to play us at our own game."

It was true. And she was intimidated, because now Jim was playing _her. _Everything she did was copied by Jim, down to the sweet talk and bipolar outbursts. Sebastian couldn't help but smirk. God, he was brilliant.

Ekaterina shook her head. "Tie him down," she growled.

Jim let himself be led to the chair facing Sebastian.

"Hello, Seb."

"Jim."

"Shut up!" Ekaterina was getting frantic. Her reins of control were slipping out of her grasp. But she still had Jim. And she knew how to use him.

"Now, Sebastian. I'm going to ask you again. Hopefully you'll give me the right answer. Why did you kill my brother?"

Sebastian hesitated. He looked across at Jim, waiting for any kind of signal, a sign to tell him what to do. And there it was. Jim shook his head ever so slightly. Did he know what this would mean for him? But no matter. Jim was the boss, and Ekaterina could _not _ find out why they had killed Dmitri.

"I told you. I don't know."

She smiled. "I was hoping you would say that."

Mountain Man stepped forwards, but she waved him off.

"No. I'm doing this myself."

She ripped the blindfold off of him. Jim blinked adjusting to the light.

She bent down, looking Jim in the eye. He looked back at her, chin held high, dark eyes glittering with power. He knew he had the upper hand here, even if no one else did.

Ekaterina's hand moved to her belt. She pulled out a knife, silver blade slightly glowing in the dim light. It was thin, and even Sebastian could see it had a wicked-sharp tip.

"James Moriarty." she said.

"Please. Call me Jim. We're all friends here."

"_James_."

"Fine, fine. To each his-her-own."

She didn't like his joking attitude, he could tell. She would only hurt Jim more if he pissed her off. He narrowed his eyes at Jim, warning him to stop, but Jim just grinned. The fucking masochist. He was enjoying this.

Ekaterina brought the knife up.

"Tell me, now. Why did you kill my brother?"

"Your _brother_?" His eyes widened in mock innocence. "Sebby, did _you _know that Dmitri was her brother? Oh damn. We would have _never_ offed him if we would've known he was your brother! So sorry, darling. Simple mistake."

That was the breaking point. Ekaterina growled, and brought the knife down on Jim's arm, blood following where she had cut. It was shallow, but maybe five inches long.

Jim just laughed.

"You're gonna have to do better than that if you want to get me to talk. That's tame. That's what I get in the bedroom."

Sebastian blushed.

"You want me to do better? I'll make you talk."

She turned.

"Alexei, bring them to the isolation cell. We're gonna try this a little differently."


End file.
